


Knightfall

by Murder_Kitten



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Post-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29640837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murder_Kitten/pseuds/Murder_Kitten
Summary: When Ron Weasley returns to Hogwarts for his final year, the old castle looks much the same, but Ron knows things have changed. During lessons and over meals in the Great Hall, Ron's eyes are constantly drawn to her - Susan Bones - his friend, study partner and everything he's ever wanted in his life's companion. But Susan carries secrets of her own and Hufflepuffs bury them deep. Can Ron earn her trust and her love before their time at Hogwarts comes to an end?
Relationships: Susan Bones/Ron Weasley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 2





	1. The Hogwarts Express

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: the characters do not belong to me but are the property of J.K.R and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended. I make no profit from these works. All stories are for fun and entertainment only.
> 
> I always welcome reviews/comments of people who enjoy my works.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read. I hope you enjoy it.

Ron Weasley clutched the letter tightly in his fist as he wheeled his trolley through King's Cross Station. Pigwidgeon hooted excitedly as Ron approached the barrier between platforms nine and ten. The letter he held had come a month ago and Ron had it memorised by this point. 

_Dear Mr Weasley,_

_Please note that the new school year will begin on the first of September. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross Station, Platform Nine and Three Quarters at eleven o'clock._

_Seventh years and returning students (eighth years) are advised that each student will be assigned a study partner from a different house, with which to share lessons and conduct social outings in order to foster unity and goodwill within the school._

_A list of books is enclosed along with the name and house of your study partner._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Professor M McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

On the second piece of parchment was the booklist as promised and the name of Ron's new study partner - _Susan Bones - Hufflepuff house._

He supposed it could be worse. Harry and Hermione had both been assigned returning Slytherins as study partners - Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott respectively. At least he was on friendly terms with Susan. They had been in the D.A together after all. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad. 

He broke into a run and burst through the magical barrier on the other side. A scarlet steam engine was waiting for him. Ron strolled along the length of the train, coming to stop at the last compartment where Harry and Hermione had agreed to meet him so they could all sit together with their study partners and get to know them a bit before they arrived at Hogwarts. It had been Hermione's idea of course. 

Ron shoved the compartment door open and heaved his trunk inside, pausing when he realised the compartment wasn't empty. Harry, Hermione, Theo and Daphne were already there. 

"Ron," Harry exclaimed. "Let me give you a hand." 

He leapt up and helped Ron drag his trunk into the corridor, stowing it overhead in the luggage rack. 

They re-entered the compartment together and Ron flopped into a seat beside Hermione, who gave him a smile, turning in her seat to hug him warmly. 

"It's good to see you, Ron," Hermione said. "This is - " 

"I know who they are," Ron said gruffly. He couldn't seem to help it. There was something about Slytherins that just immediately got his hackles up. 

Theo didn't look at all bothered by Ron's tone, but Daphne shifted in her seat. 

"Maybe we should go," she said quietly. 

"No, _stay,_ " Harry said pleadingly. "It's just going to take some getting used to." 

Daphne looked doubtful but remained in her seat as the compartment door slid open to admit Susan Bones. 

"Hi Ron. Harry, Hermione," Susan said, acknowledging them. "Let's see… Daph I know - we live two streets away from each other. So you must be Theo?" Susan guessed, shaking his hand. "It's nice to meet you!" 

"And you," Theo said cordially, looking unsure, as though he'd never been greeted so enthusiastically in his life. 

"So, good summer, Hermione?" Susan asked, taking her seat as a whistle sounded and the train began to move forward, carrying them away from King's Cross Station. 

"Not bad," Hermione said brightly. "I managed to get a summer internship with Wizengamot Administration Services." 

"Are you interested in law?" Theo asked. 

"Not particularly," Hermione replied with a shrug. "It's an interesting field of course, but I was much more interested in helping dismantle the Muggleborn Registration Commission..." 

Hermione began a discussion about Muggleborns and equal rights with Theo, which lasted at least three quarters of an hour. Ron took to staring out the window. It was weird to think of the last time he'd taken the train to Hogwarts at the start of sixth year. So much had happened since then. An entire war had been fought, You Know Who had been defeated, he and Hermione had split up for good, as had Harry and Ginny. So much had changed. 

His depressing reverie was interrupted when the compartment door slid open to reveal the trolley witch. 

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked with an indulgent smile. 

Harry looked at Ron and grinned. 

"We'll take the lot," he declared, the words reminiscent of his and Ron's first time aboard the Hogwarts Express. 

Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron helped Harry pile packages of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes and Licorice Wands onto an empty seat. 

"Dig in," Harry said, gesturing to the small mountain of sweets. 

"Just one moment," Theo said. "Do you have a quill and a spare piece of parchment?" he asked Hermione. 

"Of course," Hermione exclaimed, rummaging through her schoolbag and passing Susan five books to hold. 

"What is that?" Theo asked, staring at the object Hermione handed him. 

"It's a pen," she replied. 

"It's like a quill but without any ink," Susan added, flashing Ron a smile as he passed her a chocolate frog. 

"Alright, thanks I think," Theo shrugged, scribbling a quick note onto the parchment and folding it. " _Charta Avis!"_ he said, tapping the parchment with his wand. 

The parchment immediately devolved into a bird, its wings rustling as it flapped toward the door. 

"Do you mind?" Theo said as Daphne slid the compartment door open to let the parchment bird out. "Thank you," he muttered. 

"What was that for? It looked like one of those interdepartmental memos the Ministry use," Ron said with a frown. 

"It's probably a similar spell," Hermione said thoughtfully, reaching for a pumpkin pasty. 

"Allow me," Theo said graciously, handing her a pasty wrapped in a paper napkin with a flourish. 

"Thank you," Hermione said with a tone of surprise. Glancing at her, Ron noted the faith blush that tinged her cheeks. _Good Godric,_ was she actually being charmed by the Slytherin? Things really had changed. 

Ron quickly struck up a conversation with Harry about Quidditch, determinedly not looking at Hermione. He wasn't jealous, he told himself. That was so fourth year. If Hermione was happy he - ...would find a way to be okay with it. 

The compartment door was kicked open with a bang. Ron looked up with some irritation. Irritation was putting it mildly he now realised, looking up into the pale, pointed face of Draco Malfoy. His expression lacked it's usual smugness, however. The war had taken its toll on Draco. He had narrowly avoided Azkaban, claiming to be acting under duress with the Dark Lord threatening his mother's life and then his own during the war. Even Ron, who had hated Draco for as long as he'd known him, felt a modicum of pity for him. The Malfoys fall from grace had been widely publicised; Lucius having been sent to Azkaban a second time, his stately manor auctioned off, along with the contents of his Gringotts vault, to compensate victims of the war. Narcissa had succumbed to a mystery illness mere weeks after the final battle. Some said it was the price of betraying the Dark Lord. Others said how tragic it was that Draco Malfoy was now completely alone and bereft of the privilege and wealth he had grown up surrounded by. Ron, however, couldn't seem to find anything to say at all. 

Fortunately, Draco spoke first. 

"What the fuck, Potter?" he complained, brandishing Theo's note in front of their faces. 

Ron squinted to read the thin, slanting cursive. 

_Potter bought the entire trolley (again)._

_Be quick or be hungry._

_T.N_

Harry looked slightly abashed, but Daphne merely snatched Draco's hand and yanked him down onto the seat between herself and Susan, slapping a box of Bertie Bott's into his hand. 

Draco popped a purple bean into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, his grey eyes scanning each of their faces suspiciously. 

"Red cabbage," he muttered distastefully, selecting another bean. "Could've picked a bigger compartment," he added with a grimace, sandwiched between Susan and Daphne. 

Ron was tempted to tell Draco that he could go back to his own compartment if he didn't like theirs. He was about to say so when Daphne caught his eye and shook her head almost imperceptibly. The implied message was clear: _Don't. Just let him be._

Ron wondered if Draco would have let him be if he were in the same situation: dead or imprisoned parents, publicly shamed as a criminal and a traitor, his home taken from him…

_No_ , he thought, Draco would be just as full of cruel taunts as usual if the situation were reversed. Draco would never change, but maybe _he_ could. Maybe he could show the maturity Hermione always said he was lacking and be the bigger wizard. He could try at least. What was there to lose? 

"So, good summer, Draco?" Ron said awkwardly. 

Draco's eyes narrowed, flashing with anger, and Ron regretted his words instantly. _Of course,_ he thought, cursing his own insensitivity. Draco's summer would have been about as cheerful as his own had been. A fortnight of fifty funerals had followed the battle, after which Ron had joined Harry and a team of others in the rebuilding of Hogwarts castle. Every stone he laid, every pile of debris he moved, was for the future; a future Fred would never see. Draco would have spent his summer watching his mother die and his father be imprisoned, only to have his home and material comforts taken from him when he needed them most. 

Draco seemed to be thinking along the same lines and fixed Ron with a hard stare, perhaps wondering if it was worth opening hostilities this early. 

With what seemed a great effort, Draco shrugged his shoulders, then leaned forward and snatched a chocolate frog from Ron's pile. 

"I went into business with Montague over the summer," Draco said mildly. 

"Doing what?" Daphne asked curiously as a smile curved Draco's lips. 

"Cabinet making," he said, glancing at the Gryffindor trio, who all looked equal parts horrified and disgusted. Even Susan was frowning. 

"Montague?" Susan repeated. "Isn't he the one who -?" 

"Got forced into a Vanishing Cabinet and nearly died? The very same," Draco confirmed. "Licorice wand?" he added, offering one to Susan. 

"The same Cabinet _you_ repaired," Hermione said accusingly. 

"Yes, Granger," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Some would say I have a natural affinity for figuring out what makes a Cabinet tick." 

"And some would say that's a gift you haven't exactly used for good in the past," Harry said slowly. 

"Do you want an apology, Potter? A confession, perhaps?" Draco said bitterly. 

"I think we'd all like to know that you're not letting more Dark Wizards into the castle, yes," Hermione agreed. 

"Fine," Draco said in a voice of icy calm. "I solemnly swear on my magic and my wand that I will play no part in any future murder plots or allow any of my new inventions to be used by Dark Wizards. Happy?" 

"New inventions?" Theo repeated curiously. 

"Yes, the old Vanishing Cabinets were temperamental to say the least," Draco explained. "Montague and I are working on combining portkey magic with the Cabinets to create portals to other locations. Rather than just a passage between cabinets, it would be a door to anywhere with the right location charm." 

"Couldn't you just apparate?" Hermione asked. 

"Not if it's somewhere you've never been before. You'll splinch yourself trying. Remember -" 

"Destination, determination, deliberation," Susan said dramatically. "You have to be able to picture it in your mind's eye," she added, nodding. 

"Exactly," Draco agreed. 

"So it's sort of like a teleporter?" Hermione said thoughtfully. 

Draco didn't get a chance to answer her, however, as the conductor's voice echoed through the train a moment later. 

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train. It will be taken to the school separately." 

The time seemed to have flown.

The train stopped at Hogsmeade Station and Ron carried Pigwidgeon's cage under his arm, following Hermione and Crookshanks into a carriage. Harry had refused to replace Hedwig, but Draco and Theo had both brought eagle owls with them. Daphne climbed into the carriage after them without any pet accompanying her. Susan didn't seem to have a pet either at first glance, but Ron could have sworn he saw her nudging a Fire Salamander back into her pocket, the creature's beady black eyes meeting Ron's for an instant. 

The carriage rumbled off down the track, gently swaying from side to side in the wake of the thestral pulling it along. Ron could see it's skeletal wings from his seat. He hadn't been able to see them until after the battle of Hogwarts, and he suspected the same was true for many returning students this year. The carriage trundled through the castle gates, flanked by stone winged boars, drawing up outside the great oak front doors of the castle a few moments later. 


	2. The Sorting Hat

Ron watched Theo carry Crookshanks' wicker basket up the stone front steps into the Entrance Hall with a grimace. He set Pigwidgeon's cage down beside the basket, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Theo, who looked a little too pleased as Hermione stammered her thanks. Turning away, Ron joined the throng of students crowding into the Great Hall. 

It looked much the same as he remembered. Floating candles cast a shimmering light over the golden goblets and plates arranged on four long house tables and one high table, where an assortment of professors were seated, some new faces among them. Ron waved goodbye to Susan who had already struck up a conversation with Ernie Macmillan at the Hufflepuff table. He joined the Gryffindor table with Harry and Hermione, while Draco, Theo and Daphne joined the Slytherins, who looked rather more subdued than usual. Many of the Slytherins were glancing about the Great Hall anxiously and a few were quite obviously jittery at the idea of being back at Hogwarts mere months after the battle. 

His attention was diverted when a line of scarcely a dozen first year students entered the Great Hall behind Professor McGonagall, who bore a three legged stool, which she set down, placing the Sorting Hat atop it. Silence fell in the Great Hall as all eyes turned to the Sorting Hat. A rip opened near the old hat's brim and it began to sing. 

_"Long ago Hogwarts was the safest of places_

_To hide the magical from prying eyes_

_And to behold the Founders faces -_

_The bold, the loyal, the cunning and the wise_

_I need not tell you, I'm sure you can name_

_Hufflepuff the Loyal, Slytherin of Cunning Art_

_Each Founder noble, and deserving of fame_

_Whether Ravenclaw Wise or Gryffindor Lion-Heart_

_Hogwarts is once again strong_

_Secure from within and without_

_Time to discover where you belong_

_Try me on and find out_

_Are you brave, noble and true?_

_Perhaps Gryffindor are your kind_

_Or else Slytherin is the one for you_

_If toward cunning and craft you are inclined_

_Are books your friends and wisdom your power?_

_Then the riddle is answered and Ravenclaw is home_

_But if Hufflepuff you are, look not to a tower_

_True loyalty cannot be found in any book or tome_

_Place me snug on your head_

_Let me judge the thoughts of your heart_

_I will place you where your magic is best fed_

_Now my song ends, let the Sorting start."_

Applause sounded through the Great Hall as the Sorting Hat at last stilled, and Professor McGonagall produced a scroll of parchment bearing the names of the new students. 

"Bell, Gemma!" the professor called, as a tiny girl with tightly plaited braids abandoned the line of first years and bounded enthusiastically to the stool, the Hat quickly covering her head. 

"RAVENCLAW!" the Sorting Hat shouted, as Ron exchanged a look with Hermione. He had fully expected Katie Bell's little cousin to be Sorted into Gryffindor as Katie had been. Perhaps the Hat knew something he didn't, he thought, as Professor McGonagall called the next name. 

"Brown, Rosemary!" 

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat yelled after a moment's pause. Ron clapped loudly, trying to ignore the gut wrenching pang that shot through him at the thought of Lavender. 

"Cattermole, George!" 

There was a long pause as the Hall collectively held its breath. 

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Sorting Hat shouted. 

Ron glanced over at the Hufflepuff table as George was welcomed into their ranks with many a hug and a clap on the back. 

"Finnigan, Shae!" 

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat declared. Ron watched Shae closely, wondering if she had the same _proclivity for pyrotechnics_ as her big brother. 

"Hopkirk, John!" 

"RAVENCLAW!" the Sorting Hat exclaimed, as a table of blue and bronze erupted in cheers. 

"Marchbanks, Mariana!"

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat proclaimed. 

There was a smattering of polite applause for Mariana Marchbanks and a few of the older Slytherins got up to shake her hand, but most of the Hall glared mistrustfully at the Slytherin table. Ron couldn't help wondering to himself if most of the new students were secretly pleading with the Sorting Hat not to place them in Slytherin house. 

"Nott, Eleanor!" 

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat cried, as if trying to prove Ron's theory wrong immediately. His stomach grumbled and he glared impatiently at the golden plate nearest him. _Hurry up,_ he pleaded silently. 

"Parkinson, Poppy!" 

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat declared after several moments of deliberation. 

Three Slytherins in a row, Ron thought grimly. _Perfect._ Just what the school needed. 

"Smith, Addison!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Sorting Hat exclaimed.

"Vance, Kenna!" 

"RAVENCLAW!" the Sorting Hat declared as Ron's stomach grumbled again. There was only one student left now. 

"Yaxley, Randi!" 

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat shouted, as little Randi seemed to give a disappointed look to Kenna Vance who had been Sorted before her and traipsed off to the Slytherin table. Perhaps the two girls had become friends on the train and were sad to be separated, Ron thought, his attention refocusing as Professor McGonagall moved the Hat and stool aside and seized a goblet from the high table. 

"Let the feast begin," she said solemnly, raising her goblet to them all. Ron supposed there would be time for a speech afterwards, right now there was _food!_

This was _good._ This felt like home, like all was right in the world, Ron thought happily, examining the many dishes piled high with food: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, bacon, steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, and boats of gravy and ketchup. 

Ron was full to bursting by the time the many dinner dishes faded from the plates to be replaced by a range of desserts: many flavours of ice cream, apple pie, treacle tart, chocolate eclairs, jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, jelly, and rice pudding. 

When the desserts faded from the plates too, Professor McGonagall got to her feet. 

"Good evening, students," she began, the candlelight glinting on her glasses. "I want to personally welcome each and every one of you back to Hogwarts. I also want to extend my condolences to those of you who lost family, friends and loved ones in the Battle of Hogwarts. I also want to offer support to those of you who suffered under the cruel regime of the Professor's Carrow last year and who continue to suffer the natural effects of grief and loss. It is for that reason that we are welcoming Madam Wakefield to our staff this year. She is a trained Mind Healer specialising in post traumatic stress disorder and grief counselling. I would encourage any student here to seek her out. She is a wise confidante and friend as well as a skilled Healer." 

Madam Wakefield gave a grateful nod to Professor McGonagall as the Headmistress continued. 

"I would like to assure all of you whether this is your first time at Hogwarts, or whether you've studied here for a number of years, you are _safe_ here. I promise you all that as long as I am Headmistress, no student or staff member shall ever again suffer cruelties within these walls," Professor McGonagall said solemnly. "On that note, I would like to introduce several new members of staff to you all. First, of course, Madam Wakefield, our Mind Healer," she said, as polite applause filled the Great Hall. "Second, our new Deputy Headmaster, Mr Oliver Wood who is also our new acting Quidditch Coordinator, and who will be assisting the team captains with coaching and game strategies." There was tumultuous applause for Mr Wood from the Gryffindor table in particular. "Finally, I would like to introduce our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. As a wizard who has spent many years in magical law enforcement, fighting the Dark Arts and those who practice them, he is well placed to give you all an education in recognising and combating practicers of Dark Magic. Please give a warm welcome to Professor Gawain Robards." 

Hearty applause met Professor McGonagall's last introduction, even the Slytherins were clapping enthusiastically. Gawain Robards was well respected within the magical community. Ron Weasley, however, noted Draco's stony faced expression from across the room. Robards had been the one to file an arrest warrant for Lucius Malfoy. He was the wizard who had helped cause Draco's fall from grace, no doubt there was some lingering resentment there. 

"Timetables for your lessons will be issued by Prefects at breakfast tomorrow morning. Anyone wishing to try out for the house Quidditch teams or the inter-school chess tournament should speak to their Head of House or Mr Wood. Now if you would all please raise your goblets to the Fallen Fifty, we will observe a minutes' silence to honour those who gave life and limb to defend Hogwarts, before we close with the school song." 

The minute seemed terribly long to Ron Weasley, who found himself thinking, not of Fred, Tonks, Remus, or even Colin Creevey, but of how Robards dared look any of them in the face after cooperating with the Death Eaters who had infiltrated the Ministry during the war. What was Professor McGonagall thinking? He was so wrapped up in his anxious thoughts that he almost missed the first line of the school song, begun by Professor Flitwick and the Frog Choir. 

When they had finished at last, Ron could have sworn he saw Professor McGonagall wipe a tear from beneath her spectacles. 

"Good night to you all," Professor McGonagall called. "Prefects, please lead your houses to their dormitories." 

Ron walked with Harry on the familiar path up to Gryffindor Tower, following a secret route of passages and staircases concealed behind tapestries that Harry's frequent night time wanderings had revealed to him. The route enabled them to evade the crowds of students which was an added bonus. 

"Password?" the Fat Lady asked as they approached her portrait. 

" _Novum Initium,_ " Hermione said, coming up behind them with a crowd of first years following closely. 

The portrait swung forwards and Harry and Ron waited for the first years to pass, then followed them through the portrait hole. Harry climbed the stairs to a new dormitory Professor McGonagall had assigned for the returning eighth years, which he would share with Dean and Seamus. Ron proceeded alone to his own room in the newly assigned Prefect dormitory. It wasn't only damage that had been repaired in the castle in the last few months, there had been some magical upgrades made to expand the available student accommodations too. The Head Boy and Girl likewise now enjoyed private quarters. Ron's trunk had already been brought up for him, and Ron dressed in his old maroon pyjamas, collapsing onto his bed with a contented sigh. He was back.


	3. Charming Bulbs

Ron made his way down to breakfast with Hermione the next morning. She had been moved to the new Prefect dormitories too. Each Prefect enjoyed the use of a private bedroom and bathroom to themselves now, with a staircase leading to the common room which they shared with the rest of Gryffindor house. Ron assumed that Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin had enjoyed similar upgrades for the benefit of their Prefects. 

"Sleep well?" Ron asked, following Hermione down the stairs. 

"It's nice having a room to myself," Hermione admitted, which Ron knew to be an evasive way of saying that she didn't miss sharing a tent with him and Harry or a dormitory with the persistent giggles of Lavender and Parvati. 

"Did McGonagall mention anything about how the Prefect squad is going to be organised this year?" Ron asked, regretting that he hadn't spoken to the Headmistress himself after the feast. 

"Yes, the Head Boy and Girl will be organising it as usual," Hermione said impatiently. 

"And who are they?" Ron asked, cringing as he waited for Hermione to whirl around and hit him for his ignorance. 

"Neville is Head Boy," Hermione said slowly. 

"And who's Head Girl?" Ron asked, certain that he should know this. 

"Pansy Parkinson," Hermione replied in a would-be casual tone. 

"Parkinson?" Ron repeated, horrified. "That Slytherin bitch -" 

"Ronald," Hermione said warningly. 

"She tried to turn Harry over to You Know Who!" Ron exclaimed furiously. 

"Voldemort had her little sister. What was she supposed to do?" Hermione said calmly. 

"I can't believe this," Ron exclaimed. "You're taking  _ her  _ side?" 

"I'm not taking anyone's side," Hermione said in a measured tone. "There are no more sides, Ron. We have to unite and rebuild like McGonagall keeps saying." 

"Yeah, right," Ron muttered under his breath, leaving Hermione to sit with Harry and Neville and stalking over to the Hufflepuff table instead, slipping into a seat next to Susan. 

"Morning, Ron," Susan said brightly, flicking her long braid over her shoulder. 

"Hi," Ron said, forcing a smile. 

"New timetables," Ernie Macmillan announced, passing Ron a piece of parchment. 

He skimmed the day's lessons. Every lesson this term seemed to be a double. This morning was double Charms theory, then lunch and a double Herbology practical. At least it was already Wednesday, he thought. It would be the weekend before he knew it. Quidditch tryouts were marked on his timetable for next Saturday afternoon at two-thirty p.m, but he doubted he would go. Quidditch had lost its fun. His name was listed twice already on a burnished red and gold shield in the trophy room -  _ Ronald Weasley - Keeper - Gryffindor - Quidditch Cup winning team 1996 and 1997.  _ He'd skip it this year, he decided. McGonagall had mentioned something at the feast about an inter-school chess tournament which sounded much more appealing to him. 

"Scrambled eggs?" Susan said, already filling a plate for him and setting a tall glass of pumpkin juice down.

"Thanks," Ron muttered, slipping his timetable into the pocket of his robes and turning his attention to his breakfast. 

"Pepper, salt, parsley, chives?" Susan offered. 

"Just some Worcestershire sauce is fine," Ron said, splashing a little of it over his scrambled eggs as Susan poured herself a cup of tea.

Ron had barely started on his eggs before five hundred owls streamed into the Great Hall, bearing the morning's post. 

A screech owl bearing a  _ Daily Prophet  _ in its beak landed in front of Ernie. Ron glanced up in search of Errol or Hermes, but neither of the Weasley owls appeared in the swirling mass of feathers, and he returned to his breakfast with a glum sigh. Susan hadn't received anything either and Ron wondered at that. 

"Expecting something?" he asked as she glanced up at the flock of owls. 

"Not really," she admitted. "My aunt used to write every week, but -" she broke off, biting her lip. "Never mind," she said, shaking her head. "We should get to Charms." 

"Sure," Ron agreed, draining his glass of pumpkin juice and swinging his school bag over his shoulder. 

He and Susan made their way to the third floor Charms corridor. The class was a mixture of seventh years and returning eighth years, and was therefore a somewhat larger group than Ron was used to. Every seat in the three rows facing Professor Flitwick's desk had filled by the time the tiny Charms professor climbed his usual pile of books and peered over the edge of his desk at them all. 

"Good morning boys and girls!" Professor Flitwick said brightly. "Today we will be studying the magical theory of the gouging charm. In Friday's lesson, we will put everything we learn today into practice!" he exclaimed excitedly, his pile of books wobbling dangerously as he almost overbalanced. 

"So, first, we must ask ourselves what the purpose of the gouging charm is if we are to understand the magical elements behind it," Professor Flitwick said. "Who can tell me - Miss Granger?" 

"The gouging charm was invented in 1888 by Tara Eruere for the purpose of gouging out specific areas of material, such as earth and stone," Hermione answered immediately. 

"Correct," Professor Flitwick exclaimed. "Five points to Gryffindor. Now who can tell me a practical use for this spell?" 

Ron raised his hand, grinning when he realised he'd been faster than Hermione. 

"Mr Weasley?" Professor Flitwick said, looking at him expectantly. 

"Digging through tunnels," Ron answered. 

"What sort of situation do you envision requiring that particular application of this spell?" Professor Flitwick asked. "Perhaps the addition of vaults beneath Gringotts Bank or the excavation of ancient treasures?" he suggested. 

"Sure," Ron said, meeting Harry's eye. "Or if you've just robbed a Gringotts vault and your dragon is too big to fit through the tunnel, that spell can be pretty useful. Hermione's used it," he said, while Hermione herself looked utterly scandalised at being implicated in the theft of property. 

"Ron," she exclaimed reproachfully. 

"Miss Granger, no interrupting my class," Professor Flitwick said, though he smiled indulgently. "Widening a tunnel to accommodate a dragon you say, Mr Weasley? Unorthodox perhaps, but no doubt a very useful application of the spell," he mused. "Hmm ten points to Gryffindor, Mr Weasley. I'll make it twenty points for a written account of the event. Say, one roll of parchment?" he offered, a sly look in his eyes. 

"It's a deal, Professor," Ron said, shaking with laughter as Hermione glowered in his direction. 

"On my desk by Friday," Professor Flitwick said. "And don't look so embarrassed, Miss Granger. Your mastery of the spell is impressive and really, there was no harm done. All's well that ends well. Who's the real thief? The original thief? Or the thief who robs the keeper of the thief's stolen treasure to defeat the greatest dark wizard who ever lived?" 

Hermione nodded, her cheeks flushing crimson. 

"Now," Professor Flitwick continued. "Everyone please open your copies of  _ the Standard Book of Spells Grade Seven  _ to page seven hundred and thirty six, and note down what Miss Goshawk has to say about the magical theory behind the gouging spell." 

Ron opened his copy of  _ the Standard Book of Spells  _ to the section on gouging spells, digging parchment and a quill and ink out of his bag as he skimmed the first paragraph. 

_ 'The Gouging Spell enables a witch or wizard to carve through earth and stone with ease. From budding Herbologists digging for Snargaluff seedlings to treasure-hunting curse breakers uncovering ancient wizard tombs, the Gouging Spell makes all manner of heavy labour a matter of pointing a wand.  _

_ The applications for this spell are practical, both for digging and for making passageways through solid rock. Careful use of this spell digs out the required object and leaves the environment relatively untouched.' _

The classroom was filled with the scratching of quills and the turning of pages and Ron found himself losing focus, the lesson beginning to drag as he waited for the bell to signal the end of schoolwork and the start of lunch.

At last, the bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson, and Ron shoved his textbook, quill and parchment into his schoolbag. 

"Before you go, class," Professor Flitwick called as students began to make for the door. "Be sure to read and note Miss Goshawk's tips for casting the Gouging Spell, paying particular attention to wand movement and pronunciation. It will be vital for Friday's lesson!" 

Ron nodded in the professor's direction and hurried down to the Great Hall for lunch, pushing through the throng of students hanging around the newly constructed Memorial Wall, hung with the portraits of the Fallen Fifty. He had no desire to see Fred's portrait, the grief was still too fresh. 

He entered the Great Hall and seized the nearest platter of roast chicken, wolfing it down hungrily. A few moments later, Harry joined him. 

"How come you're not sitting with us?" Harry asked, gesturing to Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Parvati and Neville at the Gryffindor table. 

Ron shrugged. 

"Did you and Hermione have a fight again?" Harry said, concern wrinkling his brow. 

"Sort of," Ron admitted. 

"Look," Harry said in an undertone. "I know you two aren't together anymore, but you need to be able to be around each other still. We're all friends, right?" 

"This is not about that," Ron said, snagging a bread roll from the middle of the table. 

"What's it about then?" Harry persisted. 

"That Parkinson cow," Ron muttered, his face darkening with a scowl. 

"She's not that bad," Harry shrugged. "Neville says she explained to him why she did what she did, and I get it. What would you have done if Voldemort had your sister, Ron?" he asked. 

"In case you've forgotten, You Know Who  _ did  _ have my sister, down in the Chamber of Secrets in second year," Ron retorted. "And I would do the same thing I did then. I'd fight with my  _ friend _ to get her back. I wouldn't sell you out to You Know Who, no matter what." 

Harry seemed to be at a loss for further arguments he could make in Pansy's defence. 

"You're a good friend, Ron," he said finally. "But I still think you should give them all a chance. You'll be less lonely that way," he pointed out, rejoining the Gryffindor table and leaving Ron sitting alone. 

* * *

It was windy in the grounds when Ron made his way down to the greenhouses for Herbology that afternoon. Professor Sprout was waiting for them with her usual patched, frayed and dirty hat positioned precariously atop her head. Ron half expected her hat to blow away at any minute. 

"Greenhouse five today," Professor Sprout announced. The rest of the class followed Ron inside. This greenhouse was larger and housed bigger and more dangerous plants than any they had dealt with before. 

"Now, you'll be needing your dragonhide gloves and a pair of goggles each," Professor Sprout declared, gesturing to a cardboard box filled with protective goggles she had placed on a nearby trestle. "We'll be harvesting Bouncing Bulbs today," she announced. 

"Professor," Hermione said, raising her hand. "We've already studied Bouncing Bulbs," she said confusedly. 

Professor Sprout chuckled to herself. 

"Not like these, you haven't, Miss Granger," Professor Sprout said reprovingly. "You will have repotted Bouncing Bulbs before. Each one was probably the size of a turnip," she said with a shrug. " _ These  _ chaps on the other hand," she said, waving toward half a dozen bulbs, each of which were the size of a small garden shed, "...are a little bigger and harder hitting than anything you've dealt with before." 

Hermione's eyes widened and Ron stifled a laugh. The Bouncing Bulbs were  _ huge.  _

"Now, as Miss Granger says, you've studied these plants before, so you should be able to tell me plenty about them," Professor Sprout said expectantly. "Who can tell me the herbological distinction of the bouncing bulb? Miss Granger?" 

"The Bouncing Bulb, or  _ gravis bulbus,  _ is a sentient, locomotive plant with long green leaves and a purple bulb. It is commonly harvested for use in potion making," Hermione summarised. 

Professor Sprout beamed at her. 

"Ten points to Gryffindor," she said. "Miss Granger is correct. Now, who can tell me what potion the bouncing bulb is usually harvested for? Perhaps someone from my own house, Miss Bones?" 

"Pompion potion, professor," Susan answered promptly. 

"Well done. Five points to Hufflepuff," Professor Sprout said. "Now, with a young bulb, a simple knockback jinx will be able to deter it and prevent any injury. They do tend to get a little riled up in the warmer weather. But with these large bulbs, who can tell me what spell might be more effective?" 

"The fire making spell, Professor," Neville answered. 

"And the incantation?" Professor Sprout prompted him. 

" _ Incendio,"  _ Neville replied. 

"Correct, Mr Longbottom. And why might we use this spell over a weaker fire charm - the bluebell flame spell for instance?" Professor Sprout asked. 

"The bluebell flame spell is only intended to warm, it's not usually hot enough to deter a magical plant, especially once they get to this size. All it would do is tickle them, if they felt it at all. But an  _ incendio  _ spell will stop it in its tracks or wither it if there's enough magical force behind it," Neville explained. 

"Well answered, Mr Longbottom. Twenty points to Gryffindor," Professor Sprout said with a warm smile. "Now obviously, I would prefer it if you didn't wither these bulbs as it has taken each one about three years to get to this size, however,  _ safety first.  _ Your task today will be to work as a team to levitate the parent bulb and harvest the baby bulbs that have formed on the roots of these large ones. You will have to work together. These bulbs are heavy and powerfully magical and they  _ will  _ try to squash you if they feel threatened. Who would like to demonstrate a levitation charm? Mr Weasley?" 

Ron flushed crimson but stepped forward to demonstrate, gripping his wand tightly. 

_ "Wingardium Leviosa,"  _ he said confidently, one of the large bulbs rising a few inches. 

"Excellent, Mr Weasley. Ten points to Gryffindor," Professor Sprout said kindly. "Now, everyone grab a pair of goggles and a pail, and get to work. No more than five students to a bulb. You'll need space to work and  _ clear communication."  _

There was a scramble for the box of goggles. Ron grinned when Susan used a summoning charm to acquire goggles for herself, Ron and Ernie. They were joined at their bulb by Daphne and Theo. 

"Ready?" Ron asked, eyeing the giant bulb apprehensively. 

"Alright, so us three will levitate it and you and Daph run underneath and start removing baby bulbs as quickly as you can?" Susan suggested. 

Theo nodded. 

"On three then," Ron said, rolling up his sleeves. "One, two -  _ Wingardium Leviosa!"  _

The bulb rose higher than before with the combined force of Ron, Susan and Ernie's magic, but they could only maintain that height for a few seconds at a time, Daphne and Theo taking it in turns to run beneath the bulb and snatch up baby bulbs as quickly as they could. 

It was hot, sweaty work and the giant bulb only grew more agitated as the lesson wore on, finally breaking free of their spells and smashing through a greenhouse window in a few short bounds, bouncing away across the grounds. Ron cursed softly, so Professor Sprout wouldn't hear. 

"Well, after it, Weasley," Professor Sprout called, and Ron gave chase, followed swiftly by Susan and Ernie, while an exhausted Theo and a dirt-covered Daphne collapsed and watched from the window as Ron and the Hufflepuffs tried to subdue the giant and very pissed off bulb. 

It was an exhausted group of Herbology students that traipsed back up to the castle late in the afternoon for a shower, change of clothes, and a dinner of baked salmon and steamed asparagus. 

Ron groaned as he fell into bed after dinner. His muscles ached and his ribs hurt too as he laughed at the memory of chasing the giant bulb across the grounds and the resulting orange and brown slush that had previously been Hagrid's pumpkin patch as they finally cornered the giant bulb and subdued it. 

Susan was not afraid to get her hands dirty, nor was Ernie and the two of them had helped Ron push, shove and roll the stupefied giant bulb right back to greenhouse five, earning twenty points each from an amused Professor Sprout. 


	4. Queens and Counter Jinxes

Ron woke early on Thursday morning, stiff and sore and craving a hot bath to ease the pain in his aching muscles. He grabbed his towel and freshly laundered school uniform and made his way to the Prefects bathroom on the fifth floor. He slipped inside, hanging his towel and uniform on a hook on the back of the door. It had been over a year since he had even entered this room, and he was just as awestruck by it now as he had been two years ago when he'd first been made a Prefect and discovered the privileges to be enjoyed with the position. 

A row of toilet stalls lined one wall, and opposite them, sunk into the floor, was a swimming pool sized bathtub beneath a sparkling chandelier. A hundred golden taps surrounded the pool, each inset with a different gemstone. Each tap released a different colour of water, scented soap, foam or oil, and Ron experimented with them for a while, filling the tub until water threatened to spill over the edge. 

He dropped his pyjamas to the floor and sank into the beckoning warmth of the water, steam spiralling past his ears, as heat enveloped him, tinging his skin an angry pink. Ron didn't care, he liked his baths hot with excessive bubbles. He could get used to this, he thought, stretching luxuriously, his aches and pains already forgotten as the heat seeped into his weary muscles. A delicious smell of coconut and lime perfumed the air and Ron breathed deep, all tension draining away. 

The bathroom door opened suddenly, and Ron sat bolt upright, splashing water onto the marble floor as he scooped bubbles around himself like a cocoon, preserving his modesty. 

"Sorry!" a voice cried. "I didn't think anyone would be in here so early. I'll - I'll just go." 

"Wait - Susan?" Ron called, as a long plait swung through the steamy air inside the bathroom. 

"Yeah, it's me. Hi Ron," Susan called back awkwardly. 

"Hi," Ron replied. "What are you doing in here?" 

"Nothing. Never mind, I'll see you at breakfast," Susan said, hurrying away, the door clicking shut behind her. 

Ron sat staring up at the chandelier above him until the water went cold. What had Susan been doing in the Prefects bathroom? She wasn't a Prefect. And who had given her the password? 

" _ Accio,"  _ he muttered, summoning the plug and draining the bath. 

He dried himself quickly and dressed, climbing the stairs to Gryffindor Tower to drop off his pyjamas and collect his schoolbag. He rummaged through his trunk to find his textbooks for Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts, stowing them in his bag before he descended the stairs to the Great Hall. 

He spotted Susan at the Hufflepuff table, deep in conversation with Ernie. He felt hesitant about joining them, but Pansy was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Neville and he didn't think he could bear having to put up with her so early in the morning. 

"Hi again," he said, sitting opposite Susan, who blushed and looked down at her empty plate. 

Ernie muttered something about needing to visit the library and excused himself. Ron looked around carefully, making sure they were alone before he spoke to Susan. He didn't want to embarrass her further and he had something of a reputation for being tactless when it came to girls. 

"Sorry about this morning," he muttered, as Susan raised her head and looked up at him. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Susan said, shaking her head. "You - you're a very attractive wizard," she admitted, her cheeks flushing pink at the admission. 

" I - um - well that's -  _ thank you,"  _ Ron stammered, clearing his throat. "What were you doing in there anyway?" he asked confusedly. 

"I know I shouldn't have been, I'm not a Prefect," Susan confessed. "But Hannah gave me the password last year. I used to go up there sometimes to cheer myself up a bit. The Carrows were quite - um _difficult_ to please," she said carefully. 

Ron nodded in sympathy.

"I have heard that about them," he said quietly. "You can keep using it. I won't tell," he promised. 

"Thanks," Susan said gratefully. 

"Don't mention it," Ron said. "Can I serve you some of these crepes?" he offered politely. 

"That would be nice, thanks," Susan replied, as Ron placed a few crepes carefully on her plate, drizzling them with honey and then dusting them with sugar. 

"No more or my teeth will fall out," Susan said with a laugh. 

"No danger there," Ron said with a grin, handing Susan her plate of crepes and helping himself to some strawberries. Susan had a very pretty smile, he thought, but he didn't know how to tell her so without sounding weird, so he said nothing and ate his breakfast instead. 

"Susan," he said, as they left the table to head to Transfiguration class. "Would you - there's a Hogsmeade weekend on Halloween, and I thought maybe we could take a wander through the shops -  _ together?"  _ he added tentatively. 

"I'd like that," Susan said thoughtfully. "And we're supposed to do social outings anyway as  _ study partners,"  _ she added. 

"Right, sure. It's a date then," Ron said, the back of his neck suddenly feeling very warm. 

"We better not be late for McGonagall," Susan reminded him. 

"Yeah, she threatened to turn me into a pocket watch the last time I was late," Ron admitted sheepishly, following Susan to Classroom 1B. 

* * *

" _ Quite _ enough chatter," Professor McGonagall exclaimed, striding to the front of the classroom and fixing her class with a stern glare. She rapped the blackboard with her wand, the day's lesson beginning to write itself in green chalk. 

Ron groaned upon reading it. 

_ Advanced Transfiguration Theory - pawn to queen - transformative spellwork.  _

"Are you ill, Weasley?" Professor McGonagall asked suddenly. 

"No, Professor," Ron answered. 

"Then unless you are suffering from the side effects of an undiagnosed ailment, there is no reason to make that noise in my classroom," she said, sweeping her hat from her head and setting it atop her desk. "Parchment, quills and textbooks should be on your desks already; I expect my students to come  _ prepared  _ to my lessons. This is the final year of your magical education. You are not new to this," she declared, as there was a flurry of movement from the assembled students, who began rummaging through school bags for quills, parchment and textbooks. 

"Open your books to the chapter on transformative spellwork - page two hundred and thirty six," she added impatiently. 

Ron flicked open his copy of  _ A Guide To Advanced Transfiguration,  _ turning the pages quickly as Professor McGonagall tapped her foot. 

"Before we begin, which of you can tell me which wizarding chess move is referenced by the practice of this particular spell?" Professor McGonagall asked. 

Ron raised his hand when even Hermione looked stumped, wizarding chess was not her forté. 

"Weasley?" Professor McGonagall said expectantly. 

"Promotion, Professor," Ron said, clearing his throat nervously. "Also called queening. It's a rule of wizarding chess where a pawn can be replaced by a queen, rook, knight or bishop once the pawn has reached the eighth rank of the chessboard." 

"Excellent, Weasley. Five points to Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall said briskly. "May I assume you've put your name down for the inter-school chess tournament?" 

"I - I haven't yet," Ron admitted. 

"See that you do," Professor McGonagall said. "I want to see Gryffindor house represented proudly. Nott has already put his name forward," she said, as Theo waved and flashed Ron a wink from the adjacent row. 

"I'll speak to Wood at dinner," Ron promised. 

" _ Mr  _ Wood," Professor McGonagall corrected him. "Right, continuing on, the pawn to queen spell is arguably similar to which branch of Transfiguration? Miss Granger?" 

"Switching spells, Professor," Hermione replied. 

"And it is not considered a Switching Spell because?" Professor McGonagall prompted. 

"Because, a switching spell swaps aspects from one target to another. For example, switching fangs to wine gums. The pawn to queen spell is entirely transformative, but is also easier to perform than a switching spell as the pawn and queen are of a similar nature and purpose, as opposed to teapot to tortoise or hedgehog to pin cushion," Hermione explained. 

"Correct, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall said. 

"So, now that we've established that this is a branch, not of switching, but of  _ transformative  _ magic, what is the incantation?" Professor McGonagall asked, as Ron skimmed his textbook for the answer. 

" _ Regina monitum,"  _ Susan replied. 

"And this comes from the Latin phrase meaning?" Professor McGonagall asked. 

"The Queen's summons," Susan replied. 

"Very good, Miss Bones," Professor McGonagall said, evidently pleased. "Five points to Hufflepuff. Now that we have the incantation, who can tell me the wand movement? Nott?" 

"Just point your wand at the target," Theo shrugged. 

"Correct in essentials. Five points to Slytherin," Professor McGonagall said. "But the important thing to remember is posture and pronunciation. You cannot be slouching in your seat and expect good results from this spell. It requires focus and strength of will, qualities that are hard to find," the Professor remarked in a manner reminiscent of Severus Snape. 

Theo reluctantly sat up straight as Professor McGonagall continued with the lesson, tracing a complicated diagram on the blackboard with her wand for them to copy and setting a full chapter summary as homework. 

"To be handed in to me by Monday's lesson," Professor McGonagall called as the bell rang, dismissing them. 

Ron stifled a groan. That meant he would be spending his weekend reading and summarising the chapter on transformative spells for Professor McGonagall. 

Hermione seemed to have forgiven him for his comments about Pansy Parkinson, and was being perfectly friendly again, joining him and Susan for a lunch of hot chicken noodle soup. Ron slurped his soup down hungrily, washing the tasty broth down with a hot, buttered bread roll. 

* * *

Professor Robards' Defence Against the Dark Arts classes took place on the third floor, in classroom 3C. There was a small group of seventh and eighth years waiting outside the door when Ron approached with Susan and Hermione. The bell rang to signal the start of the lesson and Ron pulled open the door, only to nearly be stampeded by eight or nine first years, yelling "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" at the top of their lungs. Ron winced, he was having the strangest sense of Deja vu as he entered the room. He sincerely hoped Professor Robards wasn't a carbon copy of Alastor Moody, who he recalled too late had been Robards' mentor. 

"Afternoon, class," Professor Robards said, walking up the rows of desks and shaking hands with each student. 

He paused when he reached Harry's desk. 

"Potter, is it? Excellent," he said, when Harry nodded. "Reckon I could still teach the Chosen One a thing or two," he chuckled, returning to the front of the room. 

"Well," he said, clapping his hands. "You're not an unintelligent lot, so I assume you know that I am Professor Gawain Robards, formerly Head of the Auror Office. I've got thirty-something years in magical law enforcement under my belt, and I'm here to teach you what I know. So, first things first, books away, wands out. Today's will be a practical lesson. All you'll need is your wand and some common sense. Okay, who here can tell me what the Ministry definition of a jinx is?" 

Hermione's hand shot up and Robards pointed at her. 

"Yes, Miss -?" 

"Granger, Professor," Hermione said. "The Ministry of Magic defines a jinx as a minor dark charm with often irritating but amusing effects." 

"Correct, Miss Granger. Five points - Gryffindor I presume?" he asked, glancing at the lion emblem embroidered on Hermione's robes. 

"Yes, sir," Hermione replied. 

"Very good," Robards said. "So, if we accept that definition as true, how is a counter-jinx defined? Potter, how about you?" he said, ignoring Hermione's raised hand. 

"A counter jinx is a spell that cancels the effects of a jinx," Harry said. 

"Quite correct, you'll be Gryffindor too? Five points," Robards said with an approving nod. "So, before we get to counter jinxes, which is the focus of our lesson, let's start with the names of some common jinxes, so we can learn to counter them. Just shout them out," he ordered, directing his wand at the blackboard where a chalk heading appeared:  _ Jinxes.  _

"Impediment jinx," Harry suggested, as the jinx magically appeared on the board. 

"Good, next?" Robards called. 

"Jelly Legs jinx," Hermione added. 

"Oppugno jinx," Ron called out, glancing at Hermione, who grinned unapologetically, remembering the birds she had set on Ron in sixth year. 

"Knockback jinx," Dean Thomas chimed in from the back of the classroom. 

"Revulsion jinx," Seamus Finnigan shrugged. 

"Good, good. Keep them coming," Robards called. 

"Stinging jinx," Neville added. 

"Stretching jinx," Parvati volunteered. 

"Trip jinx," Terry suggested. 

"Anti-disapparition jinx," Anthony said, looking like he was thinking hard. 

"Backfiring jinx," Theo put in. 

"The  _ Ebublio  _ jinx," Susan piped up. 

"Excellent," Professor Robards said. "I think you've covered most of the main ones. There are broomstick jinxes of course, finger removing jinxes, jelly brain jinxes, but that's a pretty good list. For a general counter to jinxes, I'll be teaching you  _ finite  _ or  _ finite incantatum, _ which you should have come across by now. This is different from an anti-jinx in that a counter jinx removes the effects rather than prevents a jinx from being cast. I will be teaching you an anti jinx as well, but first, I want to see your counter jinx capabilities. There's more than one way to combat a jinx - shield charms, evasive maneuvers. Jinx first, ask questions later if you ask me. So," he said, clapping his hands again. "Divide up into pairs. One of you will be attempting to jinx the other, while your partner tries to counter the jinx. Most creative counter wins twenty five points for their House - get started!" he exclaimed, as they all stood up. 

Robards waved his wand to move all the desks and chairs to the opposite side of the room as he moved between the students, assigning partners. Ron grinned at the uncertain look on Draco's face when he was partnered with Luna. Unsurprisingly, Harry and Hermione were partnered together as were Daphne and Theo. Robards seemed to be about to partner Ron with Neville, but changed his mind at the last instant, partnering Neville with Dean and Ron with Susan. 

Ron scratched his ear nervously as he faced his partner. 

"Proper duelling etiquette - everyone bow to your partners," Robards called, and Ron bowed low to Susan, feeling a little as though he was bowing to a small hippogriff. Susan didn't look nervous at all, she seemed to be focused and concentrating hard. 

"Now, jinxes and defensive spells only. If I see any curses being cast, or any  _ cheating, _ I will dock House points and put you in detention for a week," Robards said warningly. "On my count then, one - two -  _ three!"  _

" _ Protego!"  _ Ron roared as Susan sent a jet of silver light at him.  _ Fuck,  _ he thought, he'd forgotten about non-verbal spells. 

Susan barely faltered, but turned gracefully and shot another non-verbal spell at Ron, which he ducked just in time. 

" _ Vitis Torquenta!"  _ Ron exclaimed, sending a tripping jinx at Susan just as she sent another non verbal spell at him, the jets of light colliding in mid-air in a shower of gold sparks. 

" _ Flipendo!"  _ Ron said, as Susan danced nimbly aside with a small smile. 

Susan sent another jinx at him and Ron wasn't quick enough to block it, the jet of light hitting him squarely in the stomach. He winced but he didn't seem to have been incapacitated by the jinx, so he kept going. 

" _ Titubo crura, _ " he said, but rather than the jelly legs jinx making Susan's legs wobble, Ron found his own legs were shaking as he lost his balance and fell. 

"Excellent!" Robards called, striding over. " _ Finite,"  _ he said, and Ron's legs stopped wobbling. "A non-verbal backfiring jinx?" he asked, as Susan nodded and offered Ron a hand up. 

"Best I've seen so far," Robards commented. "Okay, time out, everybody stop," he called, just as the bell rang. "Twenty five points to this young lady," Robards decided. "That non-verbal backfiring jinx was a very clever move Miss -?" 

"Bones, professor," Susan said quietly. 

A strange look crossed Robards face, almost like grief. 

"Class dismissed," he called as the bell rang. "You're Amelia's girl," he added in a much gentler tone as the other students left.

"I am - I  _ was  _ her niece," Susan replied. 

Robards swallowed hard as Ron hovered awkwardly by the door, waiting for Susan. 

"I - she was a very talented witch, your aunt. Clever, honest, hard working. You've got her fighting spirit, I can tell," Robards said, his voice suddenly hoarse. "I won't keep you from your dinner, go on now," he said as Susan gave him a sympathetic little nod and left the classroom with Ron. 

"That was weird," Ron commented. "Are you okay?" 

"Fine," Susan said with a small smile. "Mr -  _ Professor  _ Robards and my auntie were Hogwarts sweethearts. They would've been married if -" she hesitated. "Auntie Amelia was always very focused on her career. Magical law, you know. If things had been different, if she'd been a little less independent, I just wonder if Professor Robards could have saved her from You Know Who that night… Forget it," she said, shaking her head. "Let's go get dinner." 

Susan was very quiet, almost subdued at dinner, Ron thought, finishing his lentil casserole in almost total silence. He felt painfully awkward as he looked at her. He wanted to say something, but was almost sure to say the wrong thing. 

"Well, good night," Susan said, standing up to go to the Hufflepuff common room. 

"Susan," Ron said, halting her. "I - I'm not very good at, you know, feelings and stuff. Um," he paused awkwardly, unsure how to continue. "My - my brother died too," he admitted, surprising himself at the admission. He'd never talked to anyone about Fred. "Just, if you ever want to talk or, I don't know, hang out, eat ice cream maybe? I'm not very good at saying the right thing sometimes, but I am a good listener," he said tentatively. "And I make good tea," he added.

A slow smile spread across Susan's face. 

"Thanks," she said quietly. "I'd like that, Ron. How are your hot chocolate skills though?" 

"A little rusty, but nothing a few extra marshmallows can't fix," Ron said with a grin. "Do you wanna -?" 

"Not tonight," Susan said. "I just want to be myself for a bit. How about Saturday afternoon? We could go to the Room of Requirement, maybe play some board games by the fire?" 

"Sounds perfect," Ron said with a smile. "See you in the morning then?" 

"Night, Ron," Susan murmured, giving him a quick hug before she walked away. 

Ron made his way up to Gryffindor Tower with a ridiculously happy smile on his face. Susan was sweet, he decided, and gentle. He really liked her. He had a hard time putting his dragon tunnel story on parchment for Professor Flitwick. Susan's face kept drifting across his vision, and he kept reliving the moment when she had hugged him. She was soft and sweet and warm, like hot caramel, he thought, thinking of her eyes, as he finished his homework for Professor Flitwick and went up to bed. A house elf had cast a warming charm in the room and Ron went to sleep with that comforting warmth surrounding him, his dreams of caramel and hot chocolate and Hufflepuffs with long plaits. 


	5. Elemental Magics

On Friday morning, Ron sat with the other Gryffindors for the first time since returning to Hogwarts. Busy as the first week back had been with escaped bouncing bulbs and advanced classes, he'd realised after looking over his dragon story for Professor Flitwick that while he thoroughly enjoyed Susan's company, he really missed his friends, particularly Harry and Hermione. 

Neville slid a plate of bacon and eggs across to him and with a murmured word of thanks, Ron made a start on his breakfast. He waved Susan and Ernie over to join him, his cheeks reddening a little when he made eye contact with Susan, who gave him her usual warm smile and two chocolate frogs. 

Ron took it upon himself to pour her a cup of tea. He had noticed she liked it with a little milk and a spoonful of honey - sweet and warm just like her. 

"So, Quidditch tryouts next weekend," Harry said, clearing his throat awkwardly as Ron looked away from Susan with difficulty. She got the most adorable dimple in her cheek when she smiled and he'd only just noticed it. 

"Right, yeah," Ron said, glancing up at his best friend. "I thought I'd skip it," he mumbled. 

"Tryouts? You can't just skip them, Ron. Everyone on the team has to try out; it's only fair," Hermione said. 

Ron rolled his eyes; Hermione knew almost nothing about Quidditch and had confunded McLaggen at the last Quidditch tryouts Ron had attended. Who was she to say what was or wasn't fair? 

"I meant Quidditch," he mumbled. "I don't think I'll play this year. Thought I'd put my name down for the chess tournament instead." 

"You're not going to play?" Harry said, looking disappointed. 

"I never really enjoyed it that much, to be honest," Ron shrugged. 

"I'm not a bad chess player myself," Ernie put in. "Maybe I'll speak to Wood and put my name down too."

Ron glanced up to the High Table where Wood was chatting away animatedly with Professor Sprout, gesturing excitedly with his hands.

"Reckon I'll do that now," Ron decided. "Come on, Ernie, let's go talk to Wood." 

Ernie didn't need telling twice, but stood up immediately, following Ron to the High Table. 

"Mr Wood, can we talk to you for a minute?" Ron asked, the formal  _ Mr  _ sounding odd to his ears. 

"Of course, Ron," Wood said. "I'm free now, unless you'd like to take this conversation to my office?" 

"It won't take long. We were just wanting to sign up for the chess tournament," Ron said as Ernie nodded eagerly. 

"Brilliant, we could use some more players," Wood replied. "There's a signup sheet in my office with the tournament dates on it. It'll be a round of elimination matches with other Hogwarts players first to find our chess champion and then that person will go up against the chess champions from the other schools over the next few months - Mahoutakoro, Ilvermorny and Bauxbatons are all competing. I can get a copy of the signup sheet to you by the end of the day if you're still interested, or we can go up to my office now before classes start." 

"Now's good," Ron shrugged. "If you're not busy," he hastened to add. 

"I'm not busy," Wood promised. "I was just telling Professor Sprout here about my idea to introduce a new elective to the Hogwarts curriculum - broomstick design and manufacture. Plenty of trees in the forest that would make fine broomsticks and give Hogwarts some new ones to use for Flying classes." 

"Sounds great," Ron said as they followed Wood to his office, though in truth he was a little disappointed that nobody had thought of a broomstick design class sooner and that he would therefore miss the chance to study it. 

* * *

Ron was seven minutes late for his first lesson by the time he left Wood's office. He hurried down the stone steps to the dungeons, cursing Wood as he went. Even after all this time, Wood was still just as fanatical about competition as ever. He wrenched open the door to the classroom and hurried inside. Professor Slughorn looked up at him with mild irritation. 

"You're late, Mr Weasley," he commented. 

"I am. I'm sorry, Professor. I got caught up -" Ron started to explain, but Professor Slughorn raised a hand, cutting him off. 

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to take some House points from you. I don't want to do it, you know," the old man tutted. "Unless you can tell me what the properties of honeywater are?" he said with a sideways glance. 

"I -" Ron hesitated, thinking hard. "I don't know, Professor," he sighed. 

"Very well, take your seat then, Mr Weasley," Professor Slughorn said with evident disappointment. "Five points from Gryffindor for your lateness. Let's hope you can redeem yourself before the end of the lesson," he said solemnly. "Now, if you turn to page six hundred and eighty nine of your copy of  _ One Thousand Magical Herbs And Fungi,  _ you should be able to tell me the properties of honeywater." 

Ron tugged his textbook out of his bag and turned quickly to the page the professor had specified. 

"Honeywater or  _ melaqua  _ is a solution of honey, diluted in water, which has a distinctive yellow colour. It is a common ingredient in Wiggenweld Potion, Volubillis Potion, Antidote to Common Poisons, Invigoration Draught and Wound Cleaning Potion," Ron read aloud. 

"Precisely," Professor Slughorn beamed. "Take ten points for Gryffindor. Now, as Mr Weasley says, honeywater is an ingredient in Wound Cleaning Potion, which is of course the subject of our lesson today," he announced. "A key part of learning a potion is not just in the brewing - any wizard can read a recipe. No, no, the key to potions mastery is understanding the properties of each and every ingredient that goes into your cauldron and knowing how those magical components interact with each other. Now, there are thirteen ingredients in Wound Cleaning Potion. Who can tell me the name and properties of another ingredient?" 

"Yes - Miss Granger?" he said fondly. 

"Bundimun secretion, Professor," Hermione replied. 

"And it's properties?" Professor Slughorn queried. 

"Bundimun secretion, also known as Bundimun Ooze or  _ Fungorum Limo,  _ is a magical substance produced by the Bundimun. It is known to be an extremely acidic, lime green substance that gives off a signature vapour and can erode the structure of a building or magical dwelling. It is also harmful to witches and wizards who come into contact with it, however, when diluted, it can be used in magical cleaners and pest controls such as Doxycide and it is also present in Wound Cleaning Potion," Hermione summarised. 

"Excellent as usual, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor," Professor Slughorn said, seeming impressed with Hermione's recitation. "I wonder if anyone can tell me another ingredient? Mr Boot?" 

"Flobberworm mucus or  _ vermis ducatus _ ," Terry replied. "It's a pretty well known potion thickener." 

"Tut tut," Professor Slughorn said. "You'll have to try a little harder than that, Mr Boot. Colour? Consistency? Potions it's known to be a component of?" 

"Green," Terry said quickly. Ron suspected he was afraid Professor Slughorn would move on and award his points to another student. "It has a slimy consistency, and it's used in Wiggenweld Potion, Herbicide Potion, Sleeping Draughts, Cure For Boils, and, of course, Wound Cleaning Potion." 

"Very good, Mr Boot," Professor Slughorn said with a chuckle. "Flobberworm mucus is certainly used in all those potions. But I would caution you all to give full answers wherever possible. You've got your N.E.W.T.s coming up, and the Ministry examiner won't be too pleased with half thought out answers. Always try to give as full a description or explanation of what you know - it might just get you a bonus mark or two." 

"Yes, sir," Terry nodded, sitting up a little straighter. 

"Now, who haven't we heard from? Mr Malfoy, perhaps you can tell us what you know about this ingredient right here?" Professor Slughorn said, gesturing to what looked like a dried bundle of grass. 

"It's goosegrass, Professor," Malfoy said in a bored drawl. 

"And what can you tell me about it?" Professor Slughorn asked. 

"Goosegrass or  _ Gallium Aparine  _ is a species of plant belonging to the Madder family. It has a distinctive yellow colour, and it has been used by Healers for centuries to treat the effects of Muggle diseases like scurvy and some skin ailments. It is commonly used in Healing Potions and most notably, Wound Cleaning Potion. The roots of goosegrass produce a red dye, which serves no purpose in potion making, but has been used by Druidic peoples to dye hair, clothing, woven mats and animal skins," Draco summarised. 

"Excellent, Mr Malfoy, excellent," Professor Slughorn said happily. "And a little history factoid too, most impressive. Ten points to Slytherin. I think we have time for one more before the bell rings," the professor mused, picking up a container of wrinkled, dark brown roots. "Go on then, Miss Granger," he said indulgently. 

"Mandrake root or  _ Mandragora Radix,  _ is a powerfully magical potion ingredient that is the subject of many Muggle superstitions," Hermione began. "Stewed Mandrake roots are the primary ingredient of the Mandrake Restorative Draught. The root of the Mandrake also lends a powerful potency to Wound Cleaning Potions." 

"Fantastic, Miss Granger, five points - ah, there's the bell," Professor Slughorn said distractedly. "For homework, select two ingredients from the student store cupboard and write me a little essay telling me how these ingredients react with each other when combined in a magical draught. Take your pick, and then off you go. I want those essays handed in a week from Tuesday!" 

Ron selected two ingredients at random and shoved them into his school bag, eager to escape the freezing dungeon and get up to the Great Hall for lunch. 

* * *

After a lunch of spaghetti bolognese with extra cheese and garlic bread, Ron was quite looking forward to the Charms practical that was to take place that afternoon. Instead of the usual desks that lined the classroom, there was an assortment of wide, flat rocks set out. Ron placed his account of the Escape From Gringotts on Professor Flitwick's desk. The Charms professor grinned broadly at him. 

"Twenty points, Mr Weasley, as promised," he said happily. "Now if you'll all come stand by a stone and take out your wands and your copies of  _ The Standard Book of Spells  _ \- yes, Mr Finnigan?" 

"Sir, what's this?" Seamus asked, holding up a thick volume that was sitting in front of his stone. Ron checked, he had the same book in front of him -  _ Mermish: The Mother Tongue of the Marine World.  _

"That, Mr Finnigan, is your project this afternoon.  _ All  _ of your projects," Professor Flitwick added. 

"Learning Mermish?" Seamus said doubtfully. 

"No, though I have long thought a second language ought to be included in the curriculum. Gobbledygook for example, would be beneficial to students seeking employment with Gringotts Bank. But  _ no,  _ your task is to learn and demonstrate your proficiency with the  _ gouging spell _ ," Professor Flitwick clarified in his squeaky voice. "You will use the gouging spell to carve mer-runes or Selkie images into the rock, or even to carve the rock into a tool a mer-person might use - there are images in the books I have provided that will assist you. It is Merchieftainess Murcus' birthday next week and I thought we might present your work as a gift from Hogwarts School if you are all agreeable." 

There was a murmur of assent, and Professor Flitwick continued. 

"Now, let's see who has completed the reading I set for homework," he declared, and Ron flushed guiltily. He had entirely forgotten to read the section on tips for casting the gouging spell. "Who can tell me the incantation for the gouging spell? Yes, Miss Granger?" 

" _ Defodio,"  _ Hermione said slowly and clearly. 

"Very good," Professor Flitwick exclaimed. "Everyone repeat it after me -  _ defodio!"  _

_ "Defodio!"  _ rang through the room. 

"Well done everyone," Professor Flitwick said. 'Now remember to speak forcefully - place extra emphasis on the  _ foh  _ right in the middle of the incantation," he instructed. " _ DeFOdio!"  _ he said slowly, as the class mimicked him. "Now, who can show me the wand movement for this spell? Mr Finch-Fletchley, why don't you show us?" 

Justin stepped to the front of the room to demonstrate. 

"You sweep your wand down, then cut across to the left, then down again," Justin explained. 

"Precisely - down, left, down - like you're digging! Everyone try," Professor Flitwick ordered and Ron drew his wand and tried to copy the movements of the professor, feeling a little self conscious. "Not so jerky, Miss Patil," Professor Flitwick called. "Think of it as one fluid motion. With me now - down, left, down. Very good - keep practicing for a few more minutes." 

He walked among them, correcting wand movements and adjusting stances. 

"I think you've got it," Professor Flitwick declared finally. "Time to try it on the real thing! Just remember - down, left, down -  _ deFOdio!"  _

Ron nodded at the Professor and picked up the copy of  _ Mermish: the Mother Tongue of the Marine World _ that he'd been given, searching it's pages for inspiration. His eye was drawn to a portrait of Triton, the son and herald of Poseidon, who was said to be able to still the waves with his conch shell trumpet. It was too elaborate though, he decided, settling on a set of mer-runes, said to convey the blessings of Triton. He hoped Merchieftainess Murcus would be pleased. 

" _ Defodio _ ," he said, cutting a line in the rock. "Defodio," he repeated, adding another, each line was precise and controlled as long as he was focused, he realised, picturing the runes in his mind's eye as he worked. 

By the end of the lesson, he was quite pleased with the result. It wasn't perfect, his magic rarely was, but it was reasonably neat and every rune looked like the ones in the book. 

"Excellent work, Mr Weasley," Professor Flitwick called after him as he packed up his things at the end of the lesson. 

"Thank you, Professor," Ron said gratefully. 

"Enjoy your weekend," Professor Flitwick said kindly. 

"I will," Ron replied. It was the one thing he was certain of. He had an entire afternoon with Susan to look forward to. 


End file.
